


there's nothing you or I can do so let the stars fall

by Mahelyn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star disease AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Both Sakusa and Atsumu POV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, I cried while writing this, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Time Skip, Star disease AU, Unrequited Love, because I couldn't decide which one I wanted to write, how does one tag, yeah just enjoy I guess, 星涙病
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24231586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahelyn/pseuds/Mahelyn
Summary: The star tear disease. A disease that’s caused by the beholder’s unrequited love for someone else, causing them to cry the colors out of their eyes, until they become fully colorblind and begin to experience… memory loss. Until they even forget their loved one along with their feelings, and are never able to love again.The thought alone scared Kiyoomi. He didn’t want to lose this, he didn’t want to losehim, the thought made it feel like he’d lose a lifeline. And it was absolutely terrifying.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 14
Kudos: 241





	there's nothing you or I can do so let the stars fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! So, SakuAtsu has taken over my life, and I couldn't not write this when I heard about this AU!
> 
> It's my first fic, so please bear with me, and also forgive the eventual mistakes in the sequence of tenses, I tried to correct them but I probably forgot some haha.
> 
> A massive, ginormous thanks to @haikyuutweets_ on Instagram, who accepted to beta read this! You guys should definitely go check their account, their AU is just *chef's kiss*
> 
> Also, the title is from the song "Metor Shower" by Cavetown! It was too fitting for me not to use it as the title...
> 
> Enjoy your reading I guess~

Contrary to popular belief, Sakusa Kiyoomi _does_ have feelings. The reason why people believe he doesn’t is just that he’s become good at hiding it.

See, Kiyoomi doesn’t like the outside world. He likes to keep to himself, in his own little world, mostly because of his peculiar mannerisms, his obsession with cleanliness and irrational fear of germs of any kind. Overtime, some people tried to invade this safe space of his. From there, he learned to hide what he thinks of other people, in order to protect himself from the outside world: if he ignored them long enough, they would go away. To hide himself in his uncontaminated haven, he has one great ally: his mask, that hid most of his face away. Well, _masks_ , because of course using a single mask is one of the grossest things Kiyoomi can even think of. Well, that and Miya Atsumu.

Miya Atsumu is _gross_. He’s always been gross, as far as Kiyoomi recalls. When they first met, back in their high school days, he was what many people would call a brat, an obnoxious, loud one at that. Although reluctantly, even Kiyoomi had to accept that his sets were the closest to perfection, and since he _was_ one of the best setters in Japan, of course their paths would cross multiple times.

One might say that it was _fate_. Kiyoomi thought it was just _plain annoying_.

His first encounter with Atsumu was during the Interhigh National Tournament of their 2nd year of high school. Although they never said a word, Kiyoomi didn’t miss the smug look the setter gave him from the other side of the net. It felt like a dare, a challenge, and from that day on, Kiyoomi decided that he hated the guy’s guts. The man had just lost, so why— _how_ did he look so proud of himself? Not that it mattered to Kiyoomi of course.

He quickly forgot about him though.

Then, there was the Youth Camp. It was almost like a divine sign: the Gods were telling Kiyoomi that they weren’t done with him and Atsumu yet. It could’ve driven him crazy, but he decided that he would face this trial head-on and that _he_ would be the one to wipe that smirk off of that sly fox’s face.

After the coaches introduced all of them and gave a little speech, Kiyoomi heard a voice, which he didn’t need to have heard before to guess who was the annoying person behind it.

“’ey there, Kiyoomi! I’m glad you’re here! I’ll finally get to show ya how great my sets are! Yer gonna be head over heels for me after you get to spike one of em!”, he says loudly, like he isn’t standing 2 mere feet away from Kiyoomi, which makes him take a step back.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Kiyoomi! Well, I know how I can call ya! From now on, I’ll call ya… Omi! Let’s be friends, Omi-kun!”, he said while raising his hands for a high-five.

“Don’t touch me. Also, let’s _not_. Your sets will be enough.” On that note, Sakusa turns around without listening to the blonde boy’s complaining.

After that event, the camp went on. Atsumu kept on whining and on annoying the hell out of Kiyoomi, but he never let that bother him. He would always just tell him off, or just go off by himself without even listening, leaving poor Komori to excuse him in his stead.

However, _something_ was bothering Kiyoomi. Although he would never, ever admit it out loud, he had to accept that Atsumu’s sets were always spot on. They were really easy to hit, it just felt natural when the ball flew up to meet with his large palm, to be spiked with a nasty spin from his weird wrist. It bothered him because he didn’t want to give any kind of compliment, or to even think anything positive about the annoying buzzing named Atsumu he had to bear with for the whole duration of the Camp.

On their last day, Kiyoomi was the first one to head out: being held prisoner in an environment with an unknown hygiene standard, stuck with several other people whom he didn’t know and who probably had a disputable hygiene routine was _not_ something he enjoyed at all.

“Oi, Omi-Omi! Yer not even gonna say goodbye?”

“Why would I do something like that.” He answered without stopping in his stride -in fact, he started walking faster. He heard a few running footsteps until Atsumu was standing right in front of him.

“Don’t be mean like that! You’ve made it hard enough, ya know? I spend all this time trying to bond with ya and all I got were intense glares and cold answers!”

“Yes, Miya-san. I don’t do well with people. Especially loud, obnoxious, annoying people like you, who I despise very much. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Kiyoomi didn’t think twice and just left the boy there, dumbfounded and a somewhat shocked look stuck on his face, walking past him without so much as blinking.

Thinking back on it, he thinks he might’ve been too harsh on him. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still annoying as hell, but maybe he didn’t deserve to get insults thrown at his face if he was just genuinely trying to bond with his wing spiker. He told Komori about it on the bus, and sent him a text through his comrade’s phone -since Kiyoomi doesn’t have his number, for obvious reasons- after the latter insisted: “Hey, it’s Sakusa. Sorry if I was rude earlier. It wasn’t meant to hurt you.”

The answer came in so fast Kiyoomi didn’t even have the time to give the phone back, as he saw a new text pop-up, saying: “Oii Omi-Omi! It’s ok, I was never mad lol! Sooo why dont u give me ur number so we can talk??? :DDD”. Kiyoomi never answered, and made Komori swear that he would never give him his number under any circumstances.

They met a few times after that, at the next National Tournaments, but they never really talked to each other, despite Atsumu’s many attempts to.

And then, Kiyoomi goes off to college, and Atsumu goes straight into professional volleyball. He got scouted right when high school ended, and even though Kiyoomi got scouted too, he declined the offer, since he had planned to go to college since forever, having a safe plan “just in case” being one of the many things his parents taught him. He didn’t quit volleyball though and, after he finished college, he went straight into professional volleyball.

He spent quite some time choosing a team, since most of them meant that he would have to meet new people, and he didn’t want to make the effort. Of course, he knew that he would meet new people in any team, but still, this time around he wouldn’t have Komori by his side to ~~force~~ _help_ him socialize with others.

However, after meeting with Coach Foster and getting _guaranteed_ that he would have his own separate apartment, he signed with the MSBY Black Jackals, since they were a good team anyway.

When he moved in, he spent the entire day cleaning and scrubbing every ounce of dust in the apartment he got assigned to. It’s Kiyoomi we’re talking about, so this doesn’t come as a surprise. The surprise was that, when he opened his door to throw out the trash from his day of intense cleaning before getting a good night of sleep, he noticed _someone_ : as he walked up to his door, the door next to his opened nonchalantly, and there stood none other than Miya _freaking_ Atsumu. Kiyoomi could only stare, shocked by the person standing right in front of him, his lazy grin coming up the instant he laid his eyes on Kiyoomi.

“Oh, so ‘t‘s true! Ya really are part of the team now! Welcome, Omi-kun! I’m so glad to have ya here!”, the blonde smiled.

Kiyoomi was still stuck in place, but was brought back to reality by this lazy smile which almost seemed… _too_ lazy. Too lazy to be real. It wasn’t fake, it just felt really forced, like it took him all his energy to muster up the strength to smile. He didn’t bring it up though, because it would be insensitive, invasive even, since he just set foot in the building today.

“So you’re here too. Let’s get along, Miya-san.”

“Oh, c’mon, you can call me Atsumu! We’re gonna be teammates from now on!”

“… Okay, _Atsumu_. Have a good night then.”

It had been a month since Kiyoomi had joined the team, and frankly he had grown somewhat used to it. Although Bokuto and Hinata were quite the handful, especially when they were together, their loudness and infinite energy was balanced with the calmer personalities of the team such as Meian and Tomas, who were more mature than them and therefore quieter, to Kiyoomi’s delight. Atsumu was still there, and although he was still quite frankly bugging the hell out of Kiyoomi, he didn’t get as annoyed as before.

Which was _weird_. Sakusa Kiyoomi was always weird, but that was a new kind of weird _to him_.

Miya Atsumu is _gross_. He’s always been gross, as far as Kiyoomi recalls. So it was weird that he would feel warmer and calmer when the loud mess that was Atsumu was around. It was weird how he felt somewhat empty when they went their separate ways once they reached the doorsteps of their apartments. It was _really_ weird how he felt a knot form in his stomach when he would catch himself staring at his setter, only to see him staring in the distance, his eyes empty from the usual gleam that resided in them. It made him feel frustrated, sad… _sad_? It was _extremely_ weird and out of place that he wished for Atsumu to look his way, _only his way_ with his eyes full of life and excitement.

And then it hit him: like a volleyball smashed right in the face, suddenly, violently, with absolutely no warning and leaving his face much redder than it was before. He fell for Miya Atsumu.

Kiyoomi wouldn’t say he fell “in love”, because that was a strong statement _(or maybe just because he didn’t want to face it)_. Kiyoomi didn’t really know much about love, after all he hadn’t been in a relationship in all the 22 years he had lived on this planet. But it was the closest thing he could think of, and later on it would turn out he was right: he sat in bed, his red face buried in his hands, and let himself fall back until his back hit his mattress.

“I’m in love.”, he said quietly, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear himself. “I’m in love with Atsumu.”

It felt somewhat _wrong_ to say such things, after all it’s Atsumu who we’re talking about: Atsumu who eats his onigiri with his bare hands, licks his fingers afterwards and then manages to touch about every single item in the room. Atsumu who gives out more high fives than what should be legal, his hands all sweaty from their match. Atsumu who talks too loudly, smiles too much and likes to push Kiyoomi’s buttons. _That_ Atsumu.

But, at the same time, it felt _so right_ , he couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny that yes, he was in love with Atsumu. Atsumu who always has hand sanitizer on him, in case Kiyoomi runs out while they’re out of town for a match. Atsumu who always brings a few extra masks with him, just so Kiyoomi doesn’t freak out when he can’t find his, or that he didn’t pack enough for their stay. Atsumu who put himself in front of the journalist who kept asking Kiyoomi questions even when he was starting to hyperventilate after the woman grabbed him by the arm for an interview that one time. Atsumu who _always has Kiyoomi’s back_.

As he crossed his mind, he heard a faint twinkling sound as he felt something warm on his cheeks. He sat up as he put his hands up to his face to feel what was causing this. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t see anything in the dark of his room, so he got up and walked to his squeaky-clean bathroom, where he turned on the lights and looked himself in the mirror, as the little sound seemed to follow him around.

In this mirror, he saw himself. He saw his face, his black and curly hair running along his sharp jawline, his two moles above his eye. His eyes were still as dark as ever, only they were shining. They were damp, as dozens of tiny, colorful stars made their way along Kiyoomi’s face, twinkling along the way.

Kiyoomi stood there in shock: he _knows_ what these are. He knows what they mean, he knows, but it hurts so much to even think about it. He just stared at himself in the mirror, and then started sobbing as he started shaking, trying to control his breathing as much as he could, to no avail. The stars were melting with his own tears, making it appear like he was crying a rainbow. He collapsed to his knees, twinkling echoing in his head like a requiem: minutes pass, how much he doesn’t know, and finally Kiyoomi is able to catch his breath again. He gets back on his feet and looks at his reflection in the mirror.

_The star tear disease. A disease that’s caused by the beholder’s unrequited love for someone else, causing them to cry the colors out of their eyes, until they become fully colorblind and begin to experience… memory loss. Until they even forget their loved one along with their feelings, and are never able to love again._

The thought alone scared Kiyoomi. He didn’t want to lose this, he didn’t want to lose _him_ , the thought made it feel like he’d lose a lifeline. And it was absolutely terrifying.

Contrary to popular belief, Sakusa Kiyoomi _does_ have feelings. The reason why people believe he doesn’t is just that he’s become good at hiding it.

As Kiyoomi was trying to wipe the rainbow off of his face, he heard a frantic knocking on his door. He looked at the clock: 3:21 AM. He had been reflecting on his feelings for longer than he thought. Whoever decided to bother him at such an ungodly hour of the night sure was bold. But Kiyoomi decided to answer nonetheless because at that moment, he felt like any human interaction would be good for him, since maybe it would help him think of something- _someone_ \- else than the man who lived right next door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_Crap_ , Atsumu thought. Just what _the fuck_ was he doing at Kiyoomi’s doorstep again?

Oh, that’s right. To prevent himself from losing his memory.

Atsumu had always been the brighter twin out of the two. That applied to when he and his brother decided that they would dye their hair, he chose a golden blonde, to “match with my awesome and blinding personality!” so he said.

This also applied in their taste in people: Osamu liked quiet people, hence why he was in a relationship with Suna, their high school friend who wasn’t much of a talker. On the other hand, ‘Tsumu tended to prefer people with bubblier personalities, people who would gladly go get takeout with him at 4 in the morning just because he was bored.

So, naturally, when Hinata came back to Japan and joined his team, Atsumu found himself drawn to the man like a moth would seek the light. It was so easy talking with Hinata, everything just felt so natural with Hinata, it just felt like they were meant to be, you know?

That was, until Atsumu spotted an all-too-familiar silhouette waiting outside of their gym. He was about to go mock the other individual, when his favorite redhead came bouncing out of the gym, yelling and running past him as he went towards the blueberry boy.

“Tobio! I’m here! Let’s go home!”, to which the man answered with a huff before gently kissing Hinata’s lips once he was close to him. Blue eyes met with Atsumu’s and, after a little bow to show some respect toward his senpai, he turned around with his arm around Hinata’s waist as they were heading off in the distance.

And Atsumu was just… there. He was standing there, speechless. He couldn’t move, he could only watch them from a distance. Despite the distance between them, he could still hear Hinata and Kageyama’s bickering, fading progressively until he didn’t hear them anymore. He _couldn’t hear anything_.

Without thinking, he started walking towards his apartment, slowly but not too surely. Once he had closed the door, he sat on his couch and felt empty, staring at the blank wall in front of him. Needless to say, Atsumu didn’t sleep well that night. Because he didn’t sleep _at all_ that night.

Instead, he spent the night crying. He cried and cried, softly, buried in the loneliness of dark living room, until he heard a weird sound. He was all too familiar with that sound, so he just didn’t really move nor do anything. It’s not like it came as a surprise to him, after what he had witnessed during the day.

The first and only time he heard that noise before dates from way back, when he was in high school, during his 3rd year to be exact. It was in his room, well, his and his brother’s room. One night, he heard this twinkling sound, much like a mobile hanging above a baby’s head, which was not a noise he should hear in his room, and when he listened more carefully, he could also make out Osamu’s hiccups and quiet sobs.

Turns out, his brother was in love with Suna. At that moment he learned about the infamous disease, the dreaded disease, the terrible disease. The star tear disease. However, it wasn’t long until his brother was cured, since it turns out that Suna was actually questioning his feelings towards the calmer brother, and it turns out that Osamu’s feelings ended up reciprocated in less than a week. They’ve been a happy couple ever since then.

_And so here he is, alone in his room, colors streaming down along his face._

This went on for about a month or two. Atsumu didn’t bother to count to be frank, and even if he wanted to, he hardly could, given how the days seem to blend together when you barely get enough rest to be able to stand up at all. But thanks to coffee and energy drinks, his greatest allies of all times, as well as this plastic smile he learned to put on to appear stronger than he actually is, his situation didn’t impact his setting skills.

Well, apart from the fact that the world now appears dull to him, as colors leave his eyes a little more every night. He knows he will probably end up colorblind, but after some research, turned out that color blindness doesn’t affect how sharp one’s vision is, which came as a huge relief to Atsumu.

And then, one night after a good day of practice, Foster tells them that they will have a new member who will arrive shortly. Atsumu didn’t listen, he was exhausted from the practice, and from seeing Hinata’s hair becoming less and less vibrant with every passing day, which broke his heart even further. But when the _name_ of this new member came up, his attention was piqued.

 _Sakusa Kiyoomi_. The one and only Sakusa Kiyoomi? On _his_ team? _Oh, this is gonna be so good_. Annoying people was one of Atsumu’s favorite hobbies, and _Omi-Omi_ had to be his favorite person to annoy -after his dipshit of a brother. He enjoyed the brunette’s company, his cutting remarks were always something that Atsumu found to be entertaining, and he respected Kiyoomi, both as a volleyball player and as a person.

Inevitably, the next day, when Atsumu was returning to his apartment after running some errands, he was met with Kiyoomi’s shocked glance as he was heading out of his own apartment to take out some trash. Atsumu was still exhausted, quickly put up his signature grin, and greeted the man. He thought about offering a handshake or a high five, but since this is Omi we’re talking about, it would be more insulting than anything: Atsumu is aware of Kiyoomi’s boundaries, and is a decent enough human being to know that it’s just wrong to trample all over one’s boundaries.

And so it went on. A month passed, and Omi-kun really felt like a part of the team now: his horrible spikes were amazing, and sending balls towards him was always a great feeling. But that feeling was just small contentment in the mess that was Atsumu’s head.

See, his love for Hinata didn’t exactly die down. He was now almost fully colorblind, and his memory had been playing tricks on him. For instance, he was roaming in the corridor, not sure of which door was his, until he saw Omi heading to his door, jolting the memory that he lived next door.

Atsumu felt like he might start to drift away, until he would eventually disappear. And he _absolutely_ didn’t want that.

So he went ahead and knocked at Omi-kun’s door. He’s not sure what he’s intending to do or even say though, he just kinda… went for it. He just wanted to get a grip on reality, while taking his mind off of the redhead that had been haunting his nights and days.

And Omi-Omi was honestly the safest choice, firstly because, well, they’re neighbors. He just had to take a step outside of his apartment to be in front of Omi’s doorstep. Secondly, and _most importantly_ , he knew he could trust that Kiyoomi would never tell anyone about whatever would happen, because Kiyoomi doesn’t even talk that much to begin with, much less to gossip. It’s actually really likely that he just won’t care about what Atsumu says altogether.

This is why he couldn’t talk to Osamu about it, because they were twins after all, and he knew that his brother would spill everything to his boyfriend as soon as Atsumu said a word. And that he would never hear the end of it from those two, since one of the things that they have in common is that bugging Atsumu seems to be a passion to them.

He had to knock a few times before getting an answer, as he heard the locks clicking open. Kiyoomi looked tired, which was understandable given the unholy hour of the morning. Atsumu was surprised when he saw him without his mask though, since the only moment he ever saw Omi without it was when he played volleyball.

He thought this mask was always stuck on his face off of the court, but it turns out that no. It also turns out that, now that he takes a good look at him, Kiyoomi is rather handsome _(if you ignore his constant scowl and annoyed look)_.

He didn’t as much blink when he saw Atsumu, he just looked past him and blatantly said:

“What do you want.”

“Omi-kun… can ya please let me in?”

Atsumu could see and hear the gears turning in Kiyoomi’s head, trying to understand the situation unfolding in front of him.

“Why? Your apartment is right there.” His cold and distant tone seemed to resonate in Atsumu’s mind, as he began to regret ever knocking on this door. But he was here now, so he had to deal with it.

“I-I just… I can’t sleep. And I need to talk to someone. About anything, really. Please, Omi-Omi?”

Kiyoomi glared intensely at Atsumu, who felt like his soul was about to get ripped from his body just by those two black orbs staring right at it. After he gave it some thought, Omi-Omi gave his answer:

“… Okay.” As he opened the door, he threw a bottle of hand sanitizer and a mask toward Atsumu. “Put this on and clean your hands before you set a foot in this apartment. Also _don’t touch anything_.”

Atsumu chuckled, but listened to his host nonetheless and carefully scrubbed the germs off of his hands, leaving his skin feeling rough and dry. He gently smiled when the scent of apple and cinnamon tickled his nose, what a sweet scent, it was surprising coming from Kiyoomi.

He then entered the stupidly clean place that looked like a show apartment, and just plopped on the couch, without giving it any thoughts. This caused Omi-Omi to hiss, but he didn’t say anything and just sat as far away as he could, on the other end of the sofa.

None of them said anything at first, because none of them knew what to say in this weird, unexpected situation. The silence got more and more awkward, almost unbearable until Kiyoomi started speaking:

“So… Can’t sleep huh?”

“Wow, that’s the lamest thing to start a discussion that I’ve ever heard, Omi-kun. But yeah, head full o’ thoughts and…” Atsumu stopped himself. He knew he could count on Kiyoomi; he _knew_ that, but he was still uncomfortable talking about the whole disease-that-might-make-me-amnesic thing.

“First of all, _fuck you_. And second of all, you’re not the only one with a head too filled for your own good. So… if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Atsumu didn’t know what to say. He could only stare where Kiyoomi is, and although he couldn’t really see much in the dark of the living room, he still sees the two shining black eyes staring inside of him. He knew that Kiyoomi wasn’t a bad person, not in the slightest, but hearing him saying something as simple as “I’m here” was unexpected to say the least, yet it really felt like the most Kiyoomi thing to say.

“…Yeah, I know you are Omi. After all, we _are_ in yer apartment, so it would be even weirder if ya weren’t here.”, Atsumu said jokingly, even though in the end it was nothing but the truth.

“So, uh… you said you needed to talk earlier, right? Got a topic in mind? Anything?”

“Yeah, not really, how about ya do the talking and I do the listening for once, huh? Since you’re always so quiet and never talk about yerself, I’m sure ya got a lotta stuff to say.”

Kiyoomi didn’t answer. Atsumu understands, he must’ve been taken aback considering that he, _the_ Atsumu was suggesting that he would not be talking. Kiyoomi hummed, probably thinking about it, or thinking about what to say, or thinking about just how many germs did Atsumu bring into his sacred home. _He probably has a lot to think about right now_ , Atsumu thought, but he didn’t want to push him after he invited himself in his home so he kept his mouth shut.

And so, Omi-Omi starts talking. He talks about his mysophobia, about how he learned to live with it and with how other people treated him because of his quirks. He talks about how he ended up choosing to be alone, about how this led him to be scared of crowds and other people. He talks about the best sanitizing products on the market, and why they’re undeniably the bests.

He _talks_ , and Atsumu _listens_.

He doesn’t ask Atsumu why, and doesn’t ask him to talk about himself. Atsumu still talks a little, otherwise he would most likely fall asleep while listening to his teammate’s life stories.

This goes on for a few weeks, about a month or so. Almost every night, Atsumu knocks at Kiyoomi’s door. The door opens, Atsumu sanitizes himself -after a few times, he even does it _before_ Omi opens the door, which comes as a surprise the first time- and comes inside.

Every time, they get a little more comfortable with each other. They just sit and talk, for an hour or two, sometimes for the entire night, about themselves, about the world, alone together in the soothing darkness of Kiyoomi’s apartment.

And to be honest, Atsumu quite likes this. It feels nice to be able to have this secret meeting, where he knows he doesn’t have to hide -well, he never talked about the disease for obvious reasons, but apart from that teeny tiny detail, he doesn’t hide anything from him.

“Thank you, Omi-Omi! You’re super reliable.” Atsumu says as he waves his friend goodbye.

“… Good night to you too, Atsumu.”

After he returned home, he expected himself to cry, like every time he was alone and the darkness surrounded him.

_But nothing came._

No stars fell from his eyes, no colors were drained, no sheets were stained. He thought about Hinata, as hard as he could, and the tears still didn’t come. He… he was cured. Of course, his color blindness couldn’t heal, but this meant that he didn’t have to worry about losing his memory anymore!

Everything got _better_ for Atsumu.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Everything got _worse_ for Kiyoomi.

During the past few weeks, not only did he see Atsumu daily in practice, but he also saw him _at night_. Alone together, in the dark of his apartment.

After one of their “get-togethers”, he even heard crying coming from Atsumu’s apartment. He heard him shedding stars, and knowing they were for someone else made Kiyoomi’s heart sink even further. This made stars silently roll down his cheeks, as sorrow swallowed him whole when he tried to sleep.

He’s actually been crying pretty frequently during the last month, the bare minimum being twice a day, when he wakes up and when he’s off to try and sleep. The really annoying part is when he feels the tears coming during the day, especially during practice.

Because of course, seeing Atsumu’s longing eyes looking at Hinata was too much. So, Kiyoomi would excuse himself to leave and go to the restroom, but he always felt the eyes of his teammates following him as he left the court.

One time he even locked eyes with Atsumu, who seemed to know _something_ , which made Kiyoomi feel lots of things, between butterflies and knots in his stomach, and then blending his hot tears with the twinkling stars, that once again drained him a little more.

Kiyoomi was now totally colorblind, his eyes no longer able to see any colors anymore.

He knew his disease was about to defeat him after a certain practice day. He was coming out of the shower, he was the first one out since he physically _couldn’t_ take a shower after someone else, or while someone else was in the stall next to him. The thought of the germs would either give him a panic attack or make him pass out, and since both options were significantly bad, everyone on the team agreed to stay a few extra minutes after practice so Kiyoomi could take his shower alone.

After meticulously cleaning and scrubbing every single part of his body, he went to the locker room to change before going home. He then left, and nothing unusual happened. He had to run some errands before going home, so he got home a few minutes later than usual, and ended up bumping into Atsumu on his way there, to be met with a livid face, looking like he just saw a ghost:

“O…Omi-Omi…”

“Uh… Yes? What is it, Atsumu?”

“You… did you… forget to wear your mask?”

Instinctively, Kiyoomi rose his hands to his face, tracing his jawline with his fingers, only to notice with horror that indeed, he was walking barefaced. His heart started beating faster as his feet sank into the pavements, his breaths getting shakier and shakier, gasping for air with everything he could. He was shaking, and tears were starting to fill his eyes.

Just before he began sobbing, his blurry vision saw a hand, offering him a mask. Kiyoomi slowly lifted his head and was met with a warm smile from Atsumu, his amber eyes looking at him with all the understanding and comfort in the world. Kiyoomi slowly calmed down, in a matter of a few minutes, and finally put on the mask he was given.

From an outsider’s perspective, the two of them walking home together appeared like a steadily-paced but quiet stroll, but it was quite the opposite in Kiyoomi’s head. He was walking as fast as he could without running, his thoughts swirling in a mixture of panic, love, anxiety, happiness, fear, and _despair_. As soon as he arrived home, he threw his bag on the floor and rushed to his bathroom.

He immediately collapsed to the floor, crying with every last ounce of energy he had after his long, way too long day. Hot tears mixing with now black and white stars were streaming along his face, leaving a red trail on his cheeks. He knew that his memories with Atsumu, despite how precious they were, would soon end up erased, along with Kiyoomi’s ability to fall in love again.

Kiyoomi couldn’t allow this. He knew what he had to do. After trying his best to “hide” the fact that he’d been crying -even though his bloodshot eyes would give it away anyway-, he got in front of Atsumu’s door.

He hovered his hand over the door, a feeling of hesitation creeping in his spine. He knocks. He hears Atsumu curse “ _Shit!_ ” from the other side, along with a few shuffling noises and some swear words following the sound of someone knocking into furniture. After a few seconds, Atsumu opens the door with a bright smile on his face:

“Hey, Omi-kun! Such a surprise! Whatcha doin’ here? Wanna switch our little discussion pl—”

“We can’t do it anymore.”, Kiyoomi said as coldly and distantly as he could, despite the pain that welled up in his chest.

“We… what? Why?! Are… are ya okay, Omi? You’ve seemed off for the last few d—”

“Yes, I’m _fine_. But we can’t continue.”, he answered with the slightest voice crack. He awkwardly cleared his voice, and added before Atsumu could say anything: “That’s all. Good night _Miya_.”

Despite the blonde’s argument, Kiyoomi didn’t look back and rushed back to his apartment, swiftly locking the door behind him. He could still hear Atsumu’s voice in the corridor, calling for him while frantically knocking on his door. But Kiyoomi _just couldn’t_. He couldn’t see him, especially after what just happened. Kiyoomi headed straight to bed and spent hours curled up, sobbing as tears and stars continuously fell from his eyes, looking like a waterfall met a meteor shower.

Eventually, this starry waterfall took his last bit of energy, allowing Kiyoomi to rest.

The next few days of practice were… _awkward_ , to say the least. The whole team noticed that both Kiyoomi and Atsumu were a little off their game. The coach pulled them aside at the end of their practice, to tell them that it’s okay and that they have a life outside of the team, and that it’s only natural that sometimes, it rubs off on their plays.

He also asked them, while they were here, if they could put away the jersey, sorting them by color. Kiyoomi swallowed, as this would be quite difficult to do when your world is literally in black and white. But he couldn’t say anything, so he decided to take his extra sweet time, waiting for Atsumu to leave before he tried his best to sort them.

“Omi? …That’s a red one on the blue hanger.”

Kiyoomi was startled, which caused him to let go of the few jerseys he had left. He slowly turned around, and the concern he was met with when he looked into Atsumu’s eyes was simply agonizing for him.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Omi-kun, you’re not… colorblind, are ya…?”

“Yeah, it’s… genetic, my mom’s colorblind too. Could you… help me with those?”

Atsumu didn’t seem to buy it, but Kiyoomi could hardly tell him the truth: _“I’m desperately in love with you and I’ve been crying over you since what feels like forever, also I’m colorblind and my memory’s getting severely bad, I might just forget you overnight.”_ Yeah, not happening. Not now and not ever. They sorted the jerseys, and Kiyoomi rushed home the second they finished, jogging home to avoid the worst walk he could’ve had if Atsumu had tried to keep up with him. Fortunately for Kiyoomi, he didn’t.

Kiyoomi was really tired this evening. He had a really bad headache, so he went to bed early after he took some painkillers. He sincerely hopes that they will uphold their name and _kill his pain_.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was _odd_. _Omi_ was odd. Well, odder than usual.

He knew that color blindness could be genetic, but… Kiyoomi? He knew for sure that he wasn’t back in high school, since Atsumu would always make fun of Itachiyama’s ugly bright yellow windbreakers, to which Omi-kun would answer that he was proud that his school’s color was yellow, because that was the color of the trophy they would get when they won, and that “It’s always better than your yellow-piss hair”.

He was fairly sure that he wasn’t colorblind either when he joined the MSBY Black Jackals, so _when_? And, more importantly, _why_?

Atsumu had an idea, an idea that seemed too real, too familiar. He didn’t want it to be true, but it would explain so much.

It would explain why Omi would suddenly leave practice to “use the restroom”, only to come back looking even more tired than he did before leaving. It would explain why his memory has been pretty bad lately, to the point where he forgot to wear his mask, his armor shielding him from the outside world. It would explain his sudden color blindness.

But… _who_?

Who could be the one giving Omi-kun such a hard time? Sure, he was quite the handful, but his quirks were what made him unique. And, despite all the walls he put up to protect himself, he had a nice heart. Atsumu had seen it during their late-night talks, Kiyoomi’s a genuinely kind and caring person who just struggles to show how he’s feeling.

Even when Atsumu would relentlessly tease, annoy and push Kiyoomi’s buttons, the latter would either bite back or just straight up ignore Atsumu’s remarks. He never raised his voice -not that he would ever raise his voice for anything-, and most importantly, he _never_ _pushed Atsumu away_.

Atsumu’s been annoying since high school, and probably even before that, making it his _personal_ mission to annoy the shit out of everyone he ever crossed paths with. After all, he had been trained for this all his life, because he had ‘Samu by his side, his favorite person to annoy ever. Atsumu was aware of that, he knew people would call him a jackass or an asshole and mean it, and they were right.

Yet, Kiyoomi always felt… _different_ , somehow. He often insulted Atsumu, that’s a fact, and it’s not like he didn’t deserve it, but… but he _always had Atsumu’s back_. Especially since he joined the Jackals. All of their small 4 AM talks really brought them closer, and listening to Kiyoomi talking about his past, his insecurities, his favorite brand of hand sanitizer, and why _the one smelling like apple and cinnamon was the best_ period, all of this sort of pulled Atsumu towards him, subconsciously. Atsumu just now realized how often the handsome mole man was on his mind lately, it’s almo—

Oh. _Oh_.

 _Shit_.

Nooo… he couldn’t. Right? He couldn’t _possibly_ have fallen for the dark-haired man who lives next door. The man who always cuts him with his short yet sharp remarks, the man who could do even sharper cut shots on the court because of his dummy flexible wrists, the man who always knew what to say, the man whose hair looked so soft, the man who Atsumu wanted to kis—

_Woah, calm down Atsumu._

Now that he thought about it -it being Kiyoomi- for more than 2 seconds, it was really _weird_ how Kiyoomi always seemed somehow softer around Atsumu. Yes, he would glare and insult him, but Kiyoomi glared at mostly everything and everyone that crossed his path. And in the end, he still talked to him and accepted him for who he was. From what he knew, that was a privilege that almost no one -if anyone- else shared.

Atsumu sometimes caught him looking at him during practice: his eyes looked so peaceful yet sad. It always left that bittersweet feeling in Atsumu’s chest, because it reminded him of what he felt like when Hinata wouldn’t notice him, when he was still in lov—

_Oh no. Oh no no nononononono._ _Fuck. Fucking fuck no._

_How_ did he not _notice_? _How_ could he not notice when he used to feel _the exact same freaking way_? _How_ could he not notice that Kiyoomi’s been crying _over him_?

Atsumu’s breathing started getting more hectic, panic taking over him. Omi was already colorblind enough that he couldn’t differentiate the jerseys. And he even forgot to put his mask on. _Oh fuck_. So that’s why. But that meant his memory was getting really bad. And that also explained why he pushed Atsumu away during the last few days, but… Atsumu _knew_ that this was not the answer.

_If Atsumu didn’t do anything, then…_

Without really thinking twice about it, Atsumu bolted up from his bed, where he’d been laying down thinking for the past hours as he couldn’t sleep yet again, his sleeping schedule still used to stay up late talking with a certain dark-haired man. He left his apartment looking like a mess, but he couldn’t care less. He rushed to Kiyoomi’s door, and frantically knocked on it until the door opened slightly. When he saw Omi’s face, he just started talking right away without thinking, forgetting to catch his breath:

“Oh my god Omi-Omi I’m so terribly sorry I had no idea you liked me I’m sorry it took me so long but I like you too oh god I’m sorry I’m so so sorry I—” Atsumu’s words were cut short, as Kiyoomi rubbed his eyes and looked at him with a confused glare, then said:

“Excuse me, why _the fuck_ are you pounding on my door? And most importantly, _who are you_?”

Atsumu’s heart sunk. He just stared back at the man in front of him, looking like he just saw a ghost. He stumbled back, almost falling but catching the wall for balance at the last second. Words were stuck at the back of his throat. A pained whimper escaped his mouth, and Kiyoomi was ready to close the door.

 _No_. Atsumu had to say _something_ , anything, _everything_. Because that’s all he could do at that moment. If Kiyoomi was still there, then maybe, just maybe he… Atsumu got ahold of himself and just started talking, blabbering as he was blocking the door with his foot to make Kiyoomi listen, because he _had to_ listen.

“No look, _please_ listen! I’m Atsumu Miya, the loud, obnoxious, _gross_ setter on your volleyball team. Ever since we met, back in high school, we’ve been through so much. We’ve played against each other, as well as with each other. And despite how _fucking annoying_ I’ve been to you, you never truly pushed me away. And I kept going, but you never yelled at me, you only answered with your way-too-smart brain. For months, I’ve been crying my eyes out, literally, over Hinata. I loved him _so much_. But of course he couldn’t love me back, after all he’s already Tobio’s. And now I’m okay with it, but back then? _I was a mess, Omi_. It _destroyed_ me, broke me in more ways than one. I lost almost all the colors in the world; they all went down the drain as I cried my eyes out for him. This goddamn disease almost got the better of me. Do you know what I decided to do when my memory started to get bad? I went to _you_. One night, at 3:20 AM, I knocked at your door and asked you to talk, and _you did_. You talked to me, you showed me a glimpse of your more vulnerable side, you showed me your _feelings_. You were the _only_ one there for me, Omi. You’re the _one_ person who helped me keep a grip on reality. Without you, I don’t even know who I’d be. You’re the one who helped me get _free from this curse_. And you know, although I can’t see many colors anymore, I’m so glad that your shining eyes and stupidly silky-looking hair look just the same…I love you Omi, I truly, sincerely do. I want to be with you, I’m begging… Please just… don’t leave me alone…”

Atsumu’s hands were twitching as he kept on jabbering how much Kiyoomi meant to him, he didn’t really know what to say so he just said everything he felt. And he was struggling, because he wanted to hug the man in front of him so damn much, but he knew his boundaries and he respected them, he’s always respected them, he jus—

Atsumu’s monologue was suddenly put to an end when he felt two strong arms enveloping him. He hears Kiyoomi crying -although he’s trying to hide it, his shallow breaths and hiccups gave him away-, but there’s no twinkling: he’s crying actual tears. Omi just says:

“ _Thank you_. For everything. I was almost gone. Thanks for pulling me back. I’m glad you’re here.”

That was _it_ for Atsumu, who started sobbing and crying his eyes out, hugging Kiyoomi tightly, like he would vanish if he let go. Atsumu scoffed, of course Kiyoomi would say something like that: simple, short, yet honest and full of affection. Because that’s just how he is. They’re just standing there, in the corridor. Between two sobs, Atsumu manages to whisper a few words:

“Yeah, I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere Omi-Omi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> If you want to know more about this AU, here's the link to the original explanation in English, by @rchimedesu over on Twitter: https://twitter.com/rchimedesu/status/1246209686682185730
> 
> Also, _(not so)_ fun fact: at first I wrote a different ending, where Kiyoomi didn't remember Atsumu after his speech. Then Atsumu also lost his memory because Kiyoomi didn't love him back, so they were both colorblind and forgot their history together, along with their ability to ever fall in love again. But it hurt too much so I changed it, just the thought destroyed me lmao.
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night~


End file.
